John Miller - Inside Out

Maybe I could stage a training exercise for a few of the local deputy marshals to study surveillance methods of other law enforcement agencies, with a possible recovery of a hostage from a hostile environment thrown in.

Shapiro's answer was:

Practice makes perfect. Chet Long will supply whatever you require.

Five minutes later, Chet Long, the chief deputy U.S. marshal for the New Orleans district, called to say he'd be there in ten minutes for a pow-wow and that he had pulled all of his available deputies off what they were working on and had them collecting to await Winter's orders.

Winter used Hank's cell phone to call Lydia.

“Sorry for scaring you, Mama.”

“Hank's there with you?”

“I'm looking right at him.”

“Winter, is everything all right?”

“Never better, Mama. I expect I'll see you guys tomorrow or the next day.”

“Take your time,” she said, as cheerfully as she could.

Fred Archer punched Johnny Russo's telephone number into a pad on the portable panel's keyboard. Sean wore a set of earphones outfitted with a microphone. A city-traffic sound track played in the background. Archer sat across the panel from her, wearing the second set of earphones.

Russo answered immediately. “Yeah?”

“Where's Sam?” Sean said.

Sam's voice came on the line, causing Sean to jerk involuntarily. “Why didn't you come to see me instead of this telephone thing?”

Overwhelmed for a second, she didn't know what to say.

“I hear that somebody's been messin' around with you,” Sam said.

“That's a surprise?” Sean retorted, feeling genuine anger. “They came to an island, then they followed me to another city, and you're telling me you don't know anything about that?”

There was a long silence, during which Sean could hear Sam's raspy breathing. She knew he wouldn't say anything that could be played back to him in court.

“I don't know nothing about any of that. Sounds like one of them shoot-'em-up movies or something else crazy. You can tell me all about whatever this is when I see you.”

“When I see you? Aren't you listening? My marriage ended suddenly and those aren't suitors chasing me all over. The cops are blaming me for that big mess at the hotel in Richmond last night. If they get me or you do, it's all the same.”

“You afraid of me?” There was something that sounded like concern in his tone, Sean wasn't that easily fooled. Snakes seem perfectly harmless until they bare their fangs.

“I have nothing to lose. I have no place to go and no means to get there. If we don't get this straightened out-”

“I said I'd fix it,” Sam told her impatiently.

Archer motioned for her to set a time for the meeting.

“Tell me where you at now and I'll have someone come pick you up.”

Archer nodded vigorously at her. Sean had done as he said and let Sam insist that she come see him, not have him believe she was the one who desired a meeting.

“I'll meet you at the old Maison Blanche garage. I'll be in a purple Chrysler convertible.”

“Herb will pick you up in an hour on the fourth level. He'll bring you to the house and we can talk about what's up and I'll take care of everything.”

An hour? Before Sean could ask for more time, Archer ended the call by flipping a switch on the board.

“We got work to do,” he told her.

“One hour?” Sean snapped, jerking the headset off. “Are you nuts? You can have all of those safeguards you been jabbering about in place in an hour? You said it would take time to make sure everything was ready. You're as crazy as Manelli is.”

“He's always been suspicious,” Archer said calmly. “If we give him more time he'll start working his channels; he might find out we're here and queer the deal. We can be ready in one hour. Right, Agent Finch?”

“What if his people shoot me in the garage?”

“He'd never do that.”

“How can you be so sure?” she demanded.

“It's not his style, that's why. I know everything there is to know about Manelli. He'll have his driver pick you up because he can't risk doing that himself and because he'll figure the chances are good we've put you up to this. The driver will try to shake a tail, but we'll be right there. No matter what he does, we'll be on you. Isn't that right, Finch?”

“Absolutely, sir,” Finch agreed. “We have the latest electronic tracker. It's a fail-safe operation.”

“This is messed up,” Sean said. She threw the headset onto the couch in disgust.

“Do you really think we'd let Sam Manelli hurt you?”

“I don't know if you would or not. Do I think you could stop him from doing it? Absolutely not. And if you truly think you can, you're a bigger putz than I already thought you were.”

“You're going to be wired. First admission or threat, we roll in and pop him.”

“As soon as his driver finds the wire or spots your people, he drives away. Then you can go home, because Manelli won't come within ten miles of me. If he thinks you're behind this, they'll search me before I meet with him.”

“Think we aren't way ahead of that?” Archer left the room and came back carrying an Atlanta Braves baseball cap, which he handed to her. He pointed at the cloth-covered button in the top. “This contains a new generation position and communication bug. The transmission is not detectable by normal bug catchers. It will tell us where you are, and we can hear conversations at an unlimited distance, thanks to our nice satellite. And we'll make sure we know who goes into the lot.”

She tried the cap on and looked in the mirror. “Lucky me. I'm on a winning team.”

Sam Manelli handed the cell phone to Russo and stared out through the grimy office window into a warehouse filled with vending machines.

“It's a setup,” Sam announced.

“You think so?” Russo asked, seeing a faint light at the end of a long tunnel. “That would sure explain a few things.”

Sam's hooded eyes studied his protege, then he nodded slowly. “Feds using her to get me. If she thinks I've been trying to kill her she's too smart to show up here all of a sudden. No telling what they told her. FBI birds probably got her backed in a corner on this Richmond thing she told you about.”

“There was a big shoot-out in a hotel there. They could have staged that themselves to fool you.”

“Well, that's possible. We don't have time to check it out, do we?”

“What she told me is just what I told you. Word for word. Forget the meeting, then,” Russo said, seeing an opportunity to appear like he was acting out of concern for the older man. “Sam, what they got at this point? Nothing. Keep it that way. You stay away from her a few days or whatever. There'll be time when this is all cooled down to get her.” Russo knew Sam wasn't about to start taking his advice now. When it came to that bitch, he was beyond reason.

Sam shook his head. “I'm gonna handle this right. This is one of those loose ends that could get all unraveled if I don't knot it up quick. I'm not gonna sit back and wait and see what's gonna happen. Something about this whole mess is all wrong. You can't get in touch with Herman, and I don't like that one bit. I go back a long time with Herman. I've given him a lot of money over the years, and maybe he's up to something-gone squirrely from plugged-up brain vessels or something. Maybe somebody killed him.”

“Let me take some of the guys and handle it, Sam. I'll get her for you. Don't risk yourself this way. Far as they can prove, you're clean.”

“I already decided.” Russo saw a new level of coldness behind Sam's eyes. “I want you out at the place in an hour and a half. We gonna have a long talk with her so you and me can get all this figured out.”